


Lantana

by ccaleb_widogast



Series: Bird of Paradise [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bigotry & Prejudice, Conflict, Fantastic Racism, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 16:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13955127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccaleb_widogast/pseuds/ccaleb_widogast
Summary: “Sorry to bother ye, but I, ah, have unfortunately received a complaint from an upstanding member of our community,” said the barkeep, stammering slightly. “And, uh, well, at this establishment we would prefer a more, uh, common tongue be spoken, if you would kindly. It unnerves some of us small-town folk to hear a, uh, foreign language such as that.”Mollymauk started unblinkingly at the man, who was visibly nervous at having to confront him and Jester. “You don’t allow a couple passing traveling to speak their native tongues?” he said, not bothering to keep his voice low like the barkeep had. “And if we didn’t have a good grasp on Common, eh? Going to force us into silence?”-Mollymauk and Jester aren't so kindly received when having a chat in Infernal. Part two in a series of character study one-shots centered around Mollymauk Tealeaf.





	Lantana

**Author's Note:**

> I am practicing and studying Mollymauk's character as the show progresses and am writing a series of one-shots that focus on him and are generally in his point of view. Each one-shot is inspired by a single verse in a song that I find very, very fitting of Mollymauk. It's called "Family," by Mother Mother. I highly recommend you look it up!
> 
> The one-shots have no specific place within the timeline and are likely to become canon-divergent as the show progresses. In general, assume that the party is at least beyond Zadash.
> 
> (One meaning for Lantana is "I am unyielding," a nod towards Mollymauk's refusal to make any attempt to blend in with the "normal" crowd.)

_When we’re out for dinner we’re cussing like sailors_  
_The people are staring and talking in whispers_  
_“Hey what’s with the strange breed?”_

“Oh, _shit_! How do you keep doing that?”

Jester stomped her foot under the table and glared across it at Mollymauk. He grinned mischievously and held his hands out in a languid shrug. “It’s a trade you had to learn in the carnival, that’s all. I couldn’t have too many people beating me at my own game; it would lose us money.”

Jester wrinkled her nose at Molly and tossed her cards down on the table, followed by a gold piece. Mollymauk scooped it up and eyed it for a moment, before tossing it back at Jester. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I would run you broke if we kept the bet.”

Jester cheered up a little at that, and gathered the cards back up. “Maybe if someone else played with us, the odds would be _better_!” she exclaimed, casting her eyes around the pub. Molly leaned back in his chair and took a drink of his ale, also looking around. The pub was a regular travel stop, in a small but relatively wealthy farming village. This granted a mixed crowd of both rugged travelers and merchant families, which provided a warm and friendly, if a little subdued, environment.

Jester seemed to finally find who she was looking for, as her eyes lit up and she waved excitedly. “Nott! Nott! Come play with us!” she could be heard clearly throughout the entire dining area, and several heads turned to look at her suspiciously. This in turn led to some of those looks passing on to Molly, and not all of them were friendly.

Mollymauk forced himself to remain relaxed. Farther north now than Zadash, the looks that Jester, Molly, and Fjord received were less than friendly more often than not. Molly refused to allow it to affect him. Jester either didn’t notice, or put on a very good act of being totally oblivious, while Fjord seemed to weather through the hostility as if he were fighting a current.

Nott had to cover up more and more as they passed further north, Molly noted once again, as she weaved through the pub toward them. Her hood was up and adjusted with some clips so that it wouldn’t fall down unless someone very forcibly pulled her hood off - in which case the offender was already identified as an enemy to the group. Her mask was a constant addition at any town now, and she wore full gloves. Luckily, a halfling covering themselves up completely was not as uncommon nor as threatening as a goblin. Nott got some odd looks, but rarely did anyone challenge her for covering up so much.

“What are you playing?” she asked as she hoisted herself onto a stool. “Oh, it’s your favorite,” she added as soon as she saw the cards Jester was holding.

Nonetheless, she agreed to play and the three of them contented themselves to a couple of rounds in which Mollymauk gracefully allowed Jester and Nott to win. A couple of games in, and he focused back in on his two opponents, watching them carefully as they studied their hands. He grinned and upped the bet by two gold, and watched Jester’s eyes light up. Nott folded, and the two tieflings placed their hands on the table at the same time.

Jester’s excited grin fell into one of outrage (an oddly adorable outrage, though, with no real heat behind it). She threw her hands in the air and loudly proclaimed, “ _I’m done! Fine! You win, Molly,_ ” she pouted at him, putting that mocking tone on his name that she did with things she was decidedly displeased about. Mollymauk took the gold this time, and pocketed it cheerfully; he’d probably buy her pastries with the gold later, anyway.

Molly suddenly, simultaneously became aware of two things in the next moment: one, the pub had fallen quiet in their direct vicinity, and awkward whispers were spreading through the pub. Secondly, Jester had yelled at him in Infernal.

The blue tiefling was looking around her and looking curiously confused. Mollymauk knew instantly what had happened, and sighed inwardly. Superstitious sheep, the lot of them. He tapped Jester under the table with his boot, and rolled his eyes at her.

“ _They don’t hear this every day_ ,” he explained, still speaking infernal. Then he looked at Nott, who looked even more confused than Jester, and in common, said, “Probably best you go find Caleb or Fjord. We’re probably going to take a walk in a bit.” Nott only nodded before she scurried away. Molly couldn’t read her expression through all of her covers, but could tell she didn’t want any part of whatever attention they were suddenly receiving. Two tieflings were bad enough, but two tieflings and a goblin? That would mean more than just getting the boot out of the pub.

Jester’s eyes were wide with the realization of what had just happened. Then she giggled, and said, mischievously, “ _So they have no idea what we’re saying. Do you think it scares them?_ ”

“ _Oh, absolutely,_ ” chucked Mollymauk. The chatter around the pub had picked back up, but it was much more subdued, and more people were looking at the two of them with expressions ranging from simple curiosity to outright aggressive sneers. Mollymauk was sure to wink a couple of the less kind onlookers.

“ _This is kind of fun,_ ” said Jester, glancing around. “ _They’re so_ stupid; _maybe they think we’re cursing them or something._ ”

“ _Usually it’s something like that. A couple hisses there, a wave here,"_ Molly waved in example, and there was a noticeable shift in the people directly around them, like a wave had pushed them back a couple of inches, “ _and - yeah, they definitely think we’re cursing them. Some of them, at least._ ”

He and Jester continued an amused back and forth, trading harmless insults or comments about the people around them. Mollymauk was quick to catch a man leaning close to the barkeep and motioning towards them with a deep frown. The barkeep looked over, grimaced, and nodded to the man. The man clapped him on the shoulder in thanks, and then weaved back to his table, where he sat and watched the tieflings suspiciously.

“Fun’s over,” muttered Molly to Jester, jerking his head toward the barkeep, who was walking over to them. She pouted, but her eyes sharpened and became alert and on guard. Mollymauk knew now that she had a lot more of experience with the prejudice against her kind than she had let on in their first days of traveling together. She had an inkling of what was coming.

The barkeep introduced himself with a cough, leaning down so that he was close enough to talk quietly to them with as little eavesdropping as possible. Molly made no move to lean in, choosing to recline in his chair as if it were a throne.

“Sorry to bother ye, but I, ah, have unfortunately received a complaint from an upstanding member of our community,” said the barkeep, stammering slightly. “And, uh, well, at this establishment we would prefer a more, uh, common tongue be spoken, if you would kindly. It unnerves some of us small-town folk to hear a, uh, foreign language such as that.”

Mollymauk stared unblinkingly at the man, who was visibly nervous at having to confront him and Jester. “You don’t allow a couple of passing travelers to speak their native tongues?” he said, not bothering to keep his voice low like the barkeep had. “And what if we didn’t have a good grasp on Common, eh? Going to force us into silence?”

The barkeep turned a bit pink. “That’s- that’s none of my business what language you’re comfortable in and all. All we want here is a peaceful pub, with peaceful folk.”

Mollymauk barked out a laugh with no joy behind it. “I don’t see many elves or dwarves around these parts. What would you do then, if some friendly dwarves wanted a couple drinks, and enjoyed their time together speaking Dwarvish? Would you ask them to stop speaking such a _foreign_ language?”

The barkeep almost spoke, almost said _no_ ; Molly could see it on his lips. The tiefling stood up abruptly, held his hands out wide. “Or, perhaps, you _folk_ just don’t like the look of a couple of _demons_ in your midst, is that it? Perhaps, we’re too _weird_ for you. Well, no worry.” He bowed deeply and mockingly to the barkeep, and then took Jester’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

“ _Say something in infernal and make it look like you’re speaking to them, if you want,_ ” said Molly to Jester, though he kept his eyes trained on the barkeep. Then he spun on his heel and began sauntering towards the door. Jester hopped along next to him and glared dramatically at the patrons, all of whom were staring at them by now.

“ _They’re just a bunch of dummies who don’t know how to have fun,_ ” she spat. Several people gasped and visibly cringed away from her. Several more made the sign of one of the Empire’s accepted deities and completely turned away, as if averting their eyes would save them from the “curse” Jester had spat at them.

And then they were outside in the orange light of a setting sun. Jester spun around and spat at the pub for good measure, and Mollymauk chuckled, ambling down the road toward the stables.

The prejudice was not new to Mollymauk, nor was it to Jester. However, she had never traveled this far north before, and he knew it would get worse here than it had ever been for her in Nicodranas. Granted, he’d never gone this far north with the carnival, for these exact reasons, but… Something itching at the back of his mind told him that he had seen these roads before, and dealt with these close-minded people in the past.

A couple of minutes later, as Mollymauk was ensuring the horses and cart were set to travel, Jester joined him, followed by Nott, Fjord, Caleb, and Beau. She was grinning, having shrugged off the veiled threats and insults from the pub. The other four looked like they wanted to ask, but weren’t sure how. They had all been in the pub in some place or another. Mollymauk didn’t have to explain anything.

But he did look at Fjord and Jester, and cast a quick glance to Nott as well. “It’s going to get worse as we get closer to Rexxentrum. Just remember,” he tilted his head back and flashed a wide grin. “You’re better than any of those bigoted sheep could ever hope to be.” He gave Jester a quick peck on the cheek, and patted Fjord’s shoulder.

Then he mounted his horse and trotted out into the road to wait for the rest of his companions. They’d be best off camping off the road after his show in the pub, but they were better off for it.


End file.
